We All See Something Different
by SuicunesRibbonButt
Summary: Whitney just can't grasp why Morty doesn't like her back. Morty is caught in the middle of not wanting to hurt Whitney and not ruining his friendship with Eusine at the same time. My writing style for this is kinda odd, sorry. The first chapter is actually the middle of the story, second and third chapters will be flashbacks. Fourth will (hopefully) tie things together.
1. I Think I Understand

All the girl was able to get out of her faded red lips was a soft "where did I go wrong?"

The boy sitting across from her gave no reply, just crossed his skinny legs and looked off to the side.

"Tell me. What's wrong with me?" The girl clenched her teeth and jammed her eyes shut. "I've had feelings for you for so long but you never give anything back to me. Never. Never ever ever never."

"There's nothing wrong with you." The boy uncrossed his legs and looked forward, slouching a bit.

"It's because I'm chubby, isn't it?"

"No."

"You like older girls? I'm too short? I'm weaker than you? You hate the city I live in?" She looked down at her feet as she spoke. "I have big feet? Do I have big feet?" Her eyes started welling with tears as she looked back up, back into the boy's dark and gloomy eyes that stared back at her.

"Your feet are perfect, Whitney."

"Then it's everything else!" She stood up and threw her arms in the air. "I'm just not good enough for Mr. Pretty Boy!"

"That was a really lame insult."

"I HATE YOU! I HATE YOU! Do you realize that? Do you realize how much you're hurting me? Do you?" At this point, the girl was pacing, making her way slowly to the kitchen, mumbling under her breath, face flushed pink.

"I hurt a lot of girls." The boy didn't have much to say.

"Well you should STOP." The girl screamed from the kitchen. "You're heartless! Heartless trash!" She ran back into the living room and collapsed face down on the floor, sobbing.

"Whitney, I-" The boy was cut off by the girl, whose speech was barely recognizable through her mix of screaming and tears.

"MORTY I SEE IT! I SEE EXACTLY WHY YOU DON'T LIKE ME BACK. IT'S OBVIOUS!"

"Whitney, sit up and repeat that. I couldn't understand anything you just said." The boy actually heard everything. "Explain yourself."

She pulled herself up, arms supporting her as she hung over, still looking at the ground, tears still soaking her face. "I said…." She stopped to cough a bit. "I said I see it. Why you don't like me back. The way you look at him. I see it all." She let her arms go weak and fell back to the floor.

The boy didn't say anything back, just shifted around uncomfortably.

They were both silent for a few minutes, the only sound being the girl giving off soft whimpers into the floor, the boy clicking his tongue every now and then, cars driving by outside. No speech, no interaction. The boy broke the silence.

"You're talking about Eusine, aren't you?"

The girl hit her head into the floor, as if she was nodding yes.

"I'm sorry….I'm so, so sorry." All the boy could do was stare forward, his eyes open wide, blank and expressionless.

"You like him a lot. That's why you don't like me. You like him…you….don't like me." The girl was sitting up, marks from the carpeting freckled across her face. She held the same expression as the boy. She resembled a deer in the headlights.

She could hear the boy breathing; it went from calm to violent in a short amount of time. He kept repeating the same phrase. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

"You…you should be sorry." The girl looked down at the floor showing between her legs. "But…that's okay. This is all okay, right?"

Expression returned to the boy's face as he looked down at the girl on the floor. She looked so tiny, so fragile. Like she could break from simply being hit with a piece of dust falling from the ceiling.

"Yeah…this is all okay." He tried to crack a small smile, but it fell apart immediately.

The girl crawled towards the boy and rested her arms on his lap, burying her head in them, making sure not to make eye contact. He ran his fingers through her rosy hair.

"So tell me about him."

"Hm?"

"You know who, Morty. Don't play dumb." He couldn't see her whole face, just the side of one of her cheeks, which shifted a bit, as if she was smiling.

"Well you were right. I do like Eusine. I like him a whole lot. I think I might even love him…but I can't say that yet." He tried to laugh a bit. "He's a pain in my ass, but I could look over that fact. He's one of the most wonderful guys I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. We all see different things in people. I know you're not too fond of Eusine, and maybe that's why you were so upset earlier. Or maybe you were just upset because you realized I'll probably never have feelings for you. A mix of both, maybe."

The boy sighed as the girl stood up and moved her position to sitting on his lap, which he welcomed her to. She rested her head on his shoulder.

"You guys would be much cuter than you and I would ever be." Her voice was just above a whisper. "Go for it, Morty. I want to see you happy, even if I'm not happy."

"Maybe. I just don't want to ruin the friendship I have with him. God Whitney, he means so much to me."


	2. I Just Don't Like You Like That

He was pretty bad at dressing up. The thought was always there, but nothing ever ended up looking as good as he thought it would.

He stood in front of the mirror for what seemed like hours, smoothing out the wrinkles in his shirt, tucking it in then untucking it again, tying the scarf that hung around his neck then just letting it hang loose.

"Will she even life this scarf? Is it clashing with my shirt?"

He talked to his reflection as if it was actually listening.

He ruffled his hair, thinking that would make it look less messy.

It never did what he wanted it to do.

He pulled up his pant legs revealing mismatched socks. Those didn't matter, his shoes went up to his ankles.

Or should he wear different shoes?

Never before in his life did he remember being this concerned with how he looked, except when he had his interview to be a gym leader. For some reason, this seemed more important than that, though.

He wasn't even sure what his feelings about her were. He would sit down and talk to his friend about how they're doing from time to time.

"So how are things going with Whitney?"

He would try to avert his friend's gaze while answering.

"She's really clingy, but she smells nice."

"Are you happy with her? I know you were kind of all over the place before you guys started dating. I think she's good for you, Morty. You needed her."

He would never say anything back after hearing something like that. He would squeeze his hands together, continuing not to make eye contact. Minutes of silence would pass until he would say something.

"I could do better than her. I'm just tossing her around like I have with other girls in the past. I'm gonna hurt her, Eusine. And I don't think I could do anything about that. It is what it is."

This time, eye contact would be made. He would bite his lip, exposing a bit of his teeth that were on the crooked side. His friend always told him he had a nice smile, but he never believed him.

They went on countless dates. Each one seemed to drag on longer than the last.

He'd move the silverware around. The fork on the left, then to the right. Feel the blunt edge of the butter knife, stick it in and out of a bread roll mindlessly.

Nod and smile, nod and smile.

"Your hair looks gorgeous tonight." He would flash her a smile after each compliment that took everything in him to get out.

The girl would smile and reach her hands across the table, grabbing his, rubbing her thumbs around the back of his hands, making the freckles scattered across his skin here and there to shift around.

The boy would eventually have to do something. Start coughing a lot, complain that he's tried.

The girl would shrug.

"I guess you want to get going, then?"

He would nod.

The car rides back would be silent. Nothing but the radio station playing on the third lowest volume, becoming fuzzy while passing under bridges. His car wasn't the newest or best quality.

The girl's apartment would be coming up.

The boy would stop in front of it.

"Here you go, Whitney."

She would let out a sigh and throw her head back, crossing her arms, mumbling something to herself while avoiding eye contact with him.

He listened carefully as her kitten heels hit the pavement, a shiver running up her spine as if she were about to burst into tears.

"Bye, Whitney."

The girl was silent in reply.


End file.
